gentle, gentle, gentle bird: a poem to myself

gentle bird,

bring that wander-lust in.

mend and restore

what has been broken.

so many years, of broken,

many shed tears & cries of confusion

war in bodies,

across centuries.

gentle, gentle, gentle bird

calm the fangs of blood
aimed at yourself

rest and reflect

on these stories

in your body,

and remember

to circle above

and see from there

too.

all is convening

to come together

and give you a chance

to put down that heavy

weight

and

move

Comments

may we rest

moments to pause and praise amidst the quickening, the racing of vision and breath. moments to slow down and orient in the blooming. not running full speed ahead, but take these steps intentionally, too. savoring the opening. as i continue to track myself and how my energy moves in cycles, i notice this pattern where when i have more outward energy, capacity, and spoons, i can get so excited about my capacity to do, the visions flooding in, the creative energy pulsing through me to actually act on them. over-identifying with this experience of myself is deeply a result of my capitalist and patriarchal conditioning in this society. i notice how in this “inner spring”, this experience of blossoming, it is so important to remind myself of the wisdoms and to carry the wisdoms of winter with me. what is it like to pause, orient, and take a breath of stillness amidst the blooming? how does this make my experience of this mome...

i have been making devotion videos to the seasons

i often notice that november can be a challenging month for me. the season of fall brings a lot of letting go, of slowing down. a surrender to darkness as teacher. akin to the luteal phase of menstruation, my energy starts the turn inward. I move a lot slower. My healing is heavy with letting go of anything that I do not need for the bare, silent wisdom journey of winter. i get panic attacks more often in the fall. my nervous system tracks the descent into colder, darker days, and my soma slows down. My body gets more heavy, I want to sit near fires and not do as much. i’m interested in how i have been taught to believe that my body is not mine. as a body that has been invaded, i am curious about how my body becomes a war zone. how me against myself has been implanted and fed in me by social forms and systems of oppression. i am so interested in how the ancestors teach me about beauty amidst struggle, outer or inner. kindness and gentleness towards myself, truly, holding spa...

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